She only lived to survive, there was no other reason. she had responsibilities she needed to take care of, that’s what kept her going. Every day was a struggle she didn’t know what was going to happen one day to the next. She never really knew who she could trust. She had asked so much of so many people she felt she couldn’t ask anymore.

One day it had to get easier, one day she had to get some relief. She knew she was responsible for the life she had, it was no one else’s fault but her own, she should have known better, done something sooner not fed into the deluded idea that people can change. She knew that they couldn’t, not if they didn’t want to, not if they didn’t think they were doing anything wrong.

The day will come when she will have to take a stand and it is going to be hard, it is going to hurt, and there is a very good chance that she is going to fail, but she will have to. Hopefully, he doesn’t kill her before.

Over the last few weeks, I have found myself in a very dark place. A place I am used to, a place I have been to many, many times before. But this time it has been different. Previous visits to this place have usually been shorter and after a period of time, I manage to leave on my own accord, not this time.

I felt the same sensation the pressure, the anxiety, the loneliness, the guilt the regret all pilling up on me slowly weighing me down till I could not make it even an hour without falling to pieces. I held it together the best I could in public for I fear the stigma that is attached to me and my illness. Not everyone understands what it is like to not have full control of yourself constantly.

My visit to the Psychiatrist proved to be unsuccessful as he deemed me unfit for the outside world and wanted me admitted and sedated saying that it would “reset” my brain as if I was a cell phone that just needed to be rebooted. When I rejected his logic he cast me off stating, I was an uncooperative patient and that by refusing to abide by his medical and professional opinion he saw no reason to continue to see me. So he sent me off with a month’s worth of the final prescription he had written for me and a letter to my GP explaining that I would need a referral to a new Psychiatrist.

Lucky for me my GP was helpful and understanding of my situation, and quickly got me an appointment with a new psychiatrist in a city 1 hour away. Unfortunately, my file was not forwarded on to this doctor so my first appointment was more a meet and greet were we discussed passed history and my current state of mind. but due to my mindset, I wasn’t much help as I find myself in a constant state of fog and confusion most days, knowing I should be trying to pull myself out of this but unable to find the handholds to pull me up.

So here I sit in a state of limbo trying to will things to get better but having no support to do so. People have said to me; “Why do you need medication to be normal?” and I can’t help but feel guilty, and sad, and angry all at the same time. Cause if they only knew what I wouldn’t give to not have to be medicated to function in this society, they would not ask such unintelligent questions.